Purgatory
Soon we will mark five long and silent years since we last saw you. Those five years have felt like one long, dark, sad and surreal day that never ends. I heard a while back that you referred to your old home as ‘Purgatory’. I think you’re right; that’s what you handed us when you said you never wanted anything to do with us again. We’ve been in this state of suffering, this living hell ever since.
I often wonder how you make peace with it all. Your behaviour was so out of character that it still takes my breath away every day, even after all these years. I think you’ve been sold many lies, not only about taking testosterone and removing healthy body parts in order to change you, a female, into a gay man, but also about who will truly have your back for the rest of your life. I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but it’s not going to be the so-called friends you have now or their families. I truly hope you have a blessed life and you never have to find out the painful truth of these lies. Ignorance is bliss after all.
I often daydream about times gone by, before the trans madness entered our home with its insidious tentacles, tainting everything it touched. We had fun, we laughed, we loved…I look over old photographs, searching for signs, looking into your eyes to see if it was all lies as you would now have us believe…I can’t see it. I wish I could and then I could make sense of where we are now.
Five years is a long time to have no contact with someone you love. It feels like a lifetime in some ways and the blink of an eye in others. But I have to be realistic, you’re never coming back, are you? We’ve spent the last five years in this weird space, hoping you would find some empathy, some compassion, some brain maturation, just something. The world around us has changed. Life literally has gone on and yet we have remained here in this house, surrounded by photos of you, your things, so many memories, rooted to the spot in shock. Don’t get me wrong; we’ve put on a marvelous show for your sister and the few people we now trust to see. But inside, our hearts are shattered.
But I have to be realistic, you’re not coming back and even if by some miracle you find it in yourself to return, it will never be the same. I don’t know you anymore and I quite often wonder if I ever really did. Me and your dad, we have to move on now for our own sakes or we will be sitting here another five years from now, wondering if tomorrow will be the day you come home. And then another five years. We need to mourn you and our life as it was and that can never be again.
We pay a heavy price in loving you but it’s because we love you that we accept it. We will be ready and waiting for you wherever we are until we take our last breaths. I hope you can find us. You are our child, and you always will be, and we will always, always love you.
Like Alice Cooper said in his iconic song, I never cry. However, this story had tears running down my face. I can't imagine the pain of being a parent whose child has completely severed ties because the parent wouldn't go along with the lies told by the tran$ "family" and a deliberately deceptive or ideologically captured medical community. Either agree to letting your child destroy their body or become the enemy. What a choice.
I was a deeply troubled teenager, shy and socially awkward. I know now that the behaviors I was scolded for (daydreaming, fidgeting, difficulty paying attention) were manifestations of ADHD. There are signs I may be on the autism spectrum, but this has never been formally diagnosed. I couldn't seem to do anything right in the eyes of my parents, my peers, or my teachers. I was mercilessly bullied and, at fifteen, an older boy sexually molested me. I drank, did drugs, cut class, and cut myself. I know many girls who fall into the tran$ trap are same-sex attracted. I'm heterosexual, but if I were growing up now with my set of circumstances, I would be a perfect victim of this ideology. I loathed myself. I would have found solace in the idea that there was a way for me to become someone else.
The tran$ ideology wants to eliminate all the "weird" people: the gender-nonconforming, the bisexual and homosexual, the autistic, the socially awkward, whoever doesn't fit in. This is why I will fight it to my last breath.
I have nothing against transsexuals. However, there is a world of difference between a transsexual who acknowledges the fact that they are taking steps to eliminate dysphoria about their biological sex and someone who literally believes people can change their sex. The tran$ movement is homophobic and misogynistic. It is medicalized conversion therapy for same-sex attracted kids and those who just don't fit in.
By the way, ProWritingAid purports that the term "biological sex" may be "hurtful to some" and suggests I change my wording to "gender assigned at birth." I suggest that the ideologically captured individuals who program ProWritingAid can take a long walk off a short pier.
“Your behavior was so out of character that it still takes my breath away every day.” This. And all of what you wrote. I continue to marvel at the commonality of this mind altering trance that has captured so many. It’s chilling, really. May they wake up soon!
A mindset that has been helpful are words from author Dr. Ramona Probasco. It’s important to understand the difference between “moving on” which is about not looking back because you fear doing so will somehow keep you in that place but better to “move forward” which is about looking back long enough to process what happened and to heal from the legitimate pain you suffered. Moving forward leads to healing well. Moving on leads to ignoring and minimizing, which keeps you stuck in ways you may not even realize.” May you find comfort, joy, and continued healing on the path ahead.